


The Basement

by Organic_heart



Series: FB prompts [1]
Category: Original Content
Genre: ghost story, prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:56:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24254740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Organic_heart/pseuds/Organic_heart
Summary: Filled for my writing group the prompt “why doesn’t anyone go into the school basement “
Series: FB prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750831





	The Basement

Mel took a deep breath and fumbled through the massive key ring. It was just a summer job, why was she so scarred? This was stupid. She knew why. The basement. She had grown up hearing the stories; “the basement is part of the old school building that burnt with the students and teacher in it. They had gone to the basement pool area to escape but died anyways” , “ if you go down there the ghosts will drag you into the old pool and drown you in the ghostly water!!” Her least favorite had been “if you go into the old class rooms at night your name will appear on the chalk board”.  
She shook her head. She was an adult now, she needed the money from this job. Besides the stories were probably just to keep kids out of a dangerous old basement. Right?  
She unlocked the elevator and stepped in and hit the button for the basement.  
Once down there taped to the door was a note from Rod, the schools full time janitor.  
“Mel,  
Once a week check the boiler, if the light is green you are good. The laundry room is in through storage ahead and to the right, see attached map. Every other day the swim teams towels need done. There is bulk detergent in the cupboard.”  
A few other odds and ends along with a map with rooms and breaker boxes circled. Using her phone as a light she opened the door. A cold rush of damp air hit her face, It’s just a basement, they are cold and drafty. She reassured herself as she found the light. The first room was mostly storage. Filled with volleyball nets, hockey sticks and the mower for the playing field along with a workbench and tools. Below a large “No smoking” sign sat an ash tray filled with cigar stubs. “Nice one Rod” she said, smirking. That explained the stories of smelling smoke down here.  
In the corner was the door to to the rest of the basement. It seemed to beat like a heart almost, waiting for her. She made her way towards it, weaving through stacks of cones, old lacrosse sticks and deflated balls.  
The handle felt ice cold, far to cold for a basement, even in winter let alone summer. “Right through, the breaker is on the left” she repeated to herself. She turned the knob and went through scrambling for the breaker box. The switches thunked on and lights flickered on. She was in a hallway that if it hadn’t been for the ancient and faded signs, posters and ugly 70s paint could have been from the upstairs where she had gone to school. “Mrs Spencer’s 4th Grade” she read on one door. There was a list of students, she could barely make out a few names,” Steven Hail,Jane Alexander, Carl Johnson” Pressing on through another door she found herself in a dark room with a brightly lit room at the other end and multiple looming doorways,through out. Mel made her way towards the light to the laundry area and tried not to think about the shapes of desks and chairs lurking in the shadows beyond. The laundry room was overly bright and made the darkness of the surrounding outer rooms more intense. Small shadows seemed to flit about from door to door. As she put the laundry into the dryer she could have sworn she heard laughter and footsteps.  
Turning to leave she caught a small figure peeking out at her. Not a shadow, but a solid figure.  
“Hello?” She called and instantly regretted it when the figure crept closer.  
“Hi” a small voice answered her  
“Hey uh.. you can’t be down here. It is off limits” she tried to sound authoritative  
“ Why not?” It was a small boy still in the shadows, only the very tips of his dirty sneakers making it into the dimmest light.  
“ Because it is dangerous down here. You could get hurt.”  
“ But my classroom is down here, I have to go to class.”  
A chill crept up her spine  
“Mes Spencer says we all have to go to class.” In the distance she could make out more small shapes moving out of rooms and piles of furniture.  
“Wha...what did you say your name was?” She was moving towards the door backing away from the boy and the others behind him  
“Carl” he answered softly


End file.
